Over every year my brain can trace,
To find the happiest time and place.”
“And where and when,” cried one by his side,
“Have you found the brightest wave in your tide?
Come tell me freely, and let me learn,
How the spark was struck that yet can burn.
Was it when you stood in stalwart strength,
With the blood of youth, and felt that at length
Your stout right arm could win its bread?”
The old man quietly shook his head.